Power of The Deal
by Aharah Musici
Summary: For Rumpelstiltskin the Deal holds absolute power. Should there be a Deal that holds great enough a Price, he could even cross into other worlds.
1. The Prize

This is just an idea that came into my head after the latest episode of Once Upon A Time, nothing too special or unique. I tried to keep it in the view of someone from fairy tale land. All _critique_ is welcome. Looks like I am going to eat my words. There is more. I will update next week.

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><p>Once upon a time, in a land far, far away lived a bitter old man. The man was cursed with an appearance to match his wicked powers. He used these powers to make deals with the people of this land to watch them writhe in misery after learning the consequences of the deal. His power and compulsion to make a Deal was so strong it could pull him to other worlds. One disgustingly bright Summer's day, that is exactly what happened. Rumpelstiltskin was pulled to a strange land where all houses looked the same and the roads were paved with the oddest stone.<p>

That is not what drew him however, it was the pull of the Deal, tantalizing in its power. Before him was a threshold which stood between him and those that would make the Deal with him, to his side was the Price. The Price, his Prize, it had such _power_ and _potential_ it caused him to let out a demented giggle. Excited as he was, he still knocked, if only to lull his victims into a false sense of security.

As the man with whom he would Deal approached the door, the details of the Deal came to him. The man had resentment for the Boy/Freak/Thing, Rumpelstiltskin's Prize, so great he had felt it upon entrance to this world. The closer the man-Dursley-approached, the more clear it became. The Prize was a burden upon their home, making odd things happen. Making Dursley afraid. This world's magic users had placed the Prize—Potter?—on the doorstep one November night three years ago. He now had all the information he could want and more for this Deal, thanks to Dursley's strong feelings. One more demented giggle escaped just before the doorknob turned. Rumpelstiltskin had not _ever _had a deal this easy.

What opened the door could hardly qualify as human, so large was the man's girth. No man in the lands of his home world could afford such luxury! Looking at Dursley's twisted visage, Rumpelstiltskin idly glanced down at his hand but saw the glamour of humanity which cast itself upon him in these journeys held.

"What do you want?" Dursley asked curtly "We do not want any vacuums and we are happy with our religion."

"Mr. Dursley, I have come here to make a Deal, one which shall benefit us both", said Rumpelstiltskin with a grin.

One hour later, Rumpelstiltskin walked out of the house with his Prize clutching his hand. Green eyes wide, the Prize's hand clutched his, calloused and bony. The boy looked less like a small child and more like a wraith for the Prize was hardly even skin and bone. As they came to the end of the house path, Rumpelstiltskin plucked a hair from his Prize's head and joined it to a string of gold. As it fell to the ground, there was a brief pop and they were there no more.


	2. The Sun

This chapter is an experiment in Harry's POV. I am using a little fannon and a little cannon in terms of his treatment by the Dursleys. I spent all of about ten minutes researching four year olds so there are bound to be characterization errors. Please feel free to point them out, in fact, I insist. As always, constructive criticism is very much welcome. Also, R's name here has no special meaning past referring to his spinning of straw to gold, skein is the term for a bundle of yarn.

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><p>This morning, Aunt Pet'una told Boy to water the garden. She told him one pail of water for each small plant. Two pails of water for a large plant. Boy had to pour out the pail <em>slowly<em> and move it around. Holes were bad. If he had a hole near a plant, there would be no dinner. So Boy set out to water _all_ the plants in the garden. There were more plants than all his fingers! The sun was so hot. It made him wet. Aunt Pet'una did not like him wet. When he got wet from the chore, he had to stand outside and dry.

Boy was _very_ careful not to splash the precious water on himself. Water was for plants, not Boy. Very carefully Boy poured the pails of water around the plants. He was hungry and his tummy hurt. On some plants the leaves were yummy. Boy picked yummy leaves and ate them secretly. Yummy leaves made him less hungry. The yummiest leaves were on the fuzzy yellow flower Aunt Pet'una hated. When Aunt Pet'una made him get rid of those he ate the leaves. Picking fuzzy yellows was his favorite. His tummy hurt much less those days.

Watering was boring. Boy hated watering. Boy kept on watering though. Uncle Vernon was home. When Uncle Vernon saw him not watering his face turned red. A red face meant ouchies, ones that leaked blood. Boy always tried to be a Good Boy when Uncle Vernon was home. Good Boy got food sometimes. Sometimes even a whole apple! Boy loved apples, they were yummier than even fuzzy flower's leaves! Boy gasped. The water splashed him! Would he dry before Aunt Pet'una came home? He wanted to be dry. He wanted to be a Good Boy!

Boy looked in the window. Uncle Vernon was not looking. There was a man at the door. Maybe, if he wished hard, he would look like a Good Boy? Boy wished hard. Very hard. Boy scrunched up his eyes and thought hard. Boy wants to be a Good Boy! Finally, after _ages_ of wishing, he felt the wish tingle. Boy's eyes shot open and he smiled with glee. Boy's clothes were clean and dry! Boy looked like a Good Boy. Boy just had to be careful now not to spill the water again. Boy was tired, wishing always made him tired and hungry.

Boy began to look for yellow fuzzies and yummy leaves while pouring the next pail. The sun hurt. It was hot. Boy did not want to be watering. Boy was hungry. No yummy leaves were in good places today. Boy thought for a minute, while _slowly_ pouring the water on a large plant. His tummy hurt, but not too badly. He was a Good Boy today, maybe he would get a crust? Boy smiled and went to fill the bucket. Filling was fun, it was the only thing Boy liked about watering. Pushing and pulling the handle. The water going swooooosh. It was the only fun in watering.

Fun but dangerous. If Boy was not careful, water would splash him. Good Boys did not get wet. Boy filled the bucket. Boy was careful. Boy would not—"Boy!"

Uncle Vernon yelled for Boy. Boy was being a Good Boy! He was! He was pouring slowly. Boy put one pail of water on small—"Come here!"

Uncle Vernon was calling for him! Boy carefully put down the bucket and looked at his hands. They were rusty from the pump. Boy put his hands in the bucket and scrubbed quickly. Boy yanked his hands out and ran as soon as they were less dirty. Boy ran through the open door and hastily shut it. Boy started to run again, Uncle Vernon had called him! Boy's eyes were wide as he skidded to a stop next to Uncle Vernon. The man across from them was scary! His skin was like a toad's and his eyes were strange. His nose was big and his hair wild. Boy thought about his own hair. Even _Boy's_ hair was not that wild. Aunt Pet'una made sure of it! Boy wondered why he was here in front of the strange man.

"Boy! You will go with Mister… Goldenskein to his house. He has work for you. Am I understood _Boy_?"

Boy nodded once and spoke up in a harsh, broken voice "Yes sir." Boy looked to Mr. Goldenskein and waited.

"Well, let us be off dearie!" Mr. Goldenskein said with a demented giggle and giant grin.

Boy followed Mr. Goldenskein out the door and out into the midday sun once again. When Mr. Goldenskein held out his hand, Boy took it and looked up at him. It was the last Boy was ever to see Number Four Privet Drive ever again.


	3. The Room

I would like to briefly say something about my feelings in respect to reviews: I am human, it is gratifying to receive them but, as an author, it is frustrating to receive no critique. I _know_ I am messing things up. The only way for me to improve is to have my faults pointed out to me or, conversely, know where I am succeeding. So, if you feel the need to review as an obligation? I take page views, favorites, and story alerts as the equivalent to "Good job, keep it up!"

I am going to keep this gen for a very loooong time. This might even end before Harry even hits puberty for all I know. _Once Upon a Time_ will be kept canonical in terms of pairings with the exception of Rumpelstiltskin as this event will change how the Belle storyline plays out.

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><p>Boy looked at Mr. Goldenskein with wide eyes. He did the m-word! Boy had so many questions he wanted to ask! Boy started to open his mouth but slapped his free hand over it just in time. Talking was bad! For some reason though, Mr. Goldenskein was calling to something hairy? What a silly man.<p>

"Boy!" Mr. Goldenskein barked. Boy gave him his full attention, "Your name is Harry, Harry Potter. Remember this, your name is _important_. In this place, your name is the only thing you shall reply to, am I understood Harry?"

Boy did not understand, his name was not Harry, it was _Boy_! He was not silly enough to believe the trick Mr. Goldenskein was playing but, his face was so earnest… Boy nodded firmly.

"Harry, my name is Rumpelstiltskin. I am your master now and this," R-R-Ru'stil'kin… Master swept his arm in front of them. Just beyond was a huge house made of _stone_! Boy had never seen a house so big! Boy's last house was _MUCH_ smaller! The doors were ginormous! "is my castle."

Master, Boy hoped it would be okay to call him that, his name was so _long_, started to tug him along. The doors opened by themselves! Master walked so fast Boy was nearly running to keep up. They passed so many things. Bright colors, stone, shiny things. Boy's eyes were so wide, there were so many things to see. They were going so fast, and there were so many things to see he hardly wanted to blink. On and on the corridors went, down and down the stairs went. Boy was panting to keep up. Boy was pulling harder and harder on Master's hand. Boy just wanted to slow down a little bit! Down one more staircase and through a normal sized door they came to a dark place, lit only by a branch on fire. Boy looked up at Master, relieved to have stopped. Master let go of his hand and opened a door just in front of them.

"Harry, this is your room. Get in," Boy rushed to comply, nearly tripping over his own feet. "you will stay here until I have work for you," Master slammed the door and walked away.

His room was darker than his old cupboard under the stairs. Boy had to squint hard to see at first. When he did, he realized his room was _enormous!_ It was bigger than Dudley's room! Master was the kindest person Boy had _ever_ met. Boy was so lucky! All of a sudden, Boy plopped down on his bum. This was his new home. This was his room. Master was his new… something. Whatever he was to Boy, he had saved him from Uncle Vernon. He had saved him from the burning sun. He had saved him from… from that house. Boy leaned back onto the door and fell asleep.

When Boy woke up, some time later, the room was as dark as before but his eyes adjusted. When he could really see, Boy realized the room was even bigger than he thought before he slept. Boy stood up and stretched, he hurt. The floor was cold and hard. The floor made Boy hurt. Boy looked around the room and decided to figure exactly how big the room was. It would be something to do. And, if Boy did, maybe he could find out what was at the far side of his room? Boy had a hard choice. Did he measure in steps or flops? If he did steps, he _really _had to concentrate to make sure he didn't fall. Flops were easier for boy. All he had to do was flop over and over across the wall. Flopping was more fun.

Boy grinned and walked to the corner. Flinging out his arms, Boy made full contact with the wall and started flopping. He loved measuring in flops, he felt like a little caterpillar worm. Boy went flat, then he went away and scrunched. Boy would bring one hand to his other and then flop onto the wall again. Boy wondered if it was similar to what hugging felt like. Boy liked giving the walls hugs with his flops. Maybe the walls liked it too?

Boy loved his room, it was his safe place. Uncle Vernon never hurt him in his room. Uncle Vernon would drag Boy out to hurt him. Boy got to the far end of his room and grinned. It was eight flops that way! That was _huge!_ Boy bounced up and down a little. He could _move. Boy could move!_ If Boy grew again, he would not be smushed! And Boy could _move._ Boy could walk around his room! Boy did not have to crawl! _Boy could move and grow!_ Master was the _best ever! _

Boy started to measure flops again only to bump his foot into something. Boy looked down. Boy saw a white pot with a lid. Boy bent down to look at it, he wondered what could be in it. Boy lifted the lid only to slam it back on as fast as he could. It _stunk!_ Boy had only smelt that stink from his cupboard's bucket. Was this his new bucket? Boy looked at the pot with a tilt in his head. Maybe it was a special bucket? Maybe it was Boy's bucket only? But… why did it look like a dish? Boy was confused but the smell did not lie. He shrugged, it had to be his new bucket. Boy grinned, it was a pretty bucket. There were even pictures on it! Boy sat down in front of his new bucket, flops deemed unimportant for now, to look at the pictures.

On the bucket were blue designs. They were _so pretty_! There were flowers, the thorn flowers, ringing a scene of a castle. The thorn flowers were the color of dried blood, though it was faint, hard to see in the light. Boy reached out his fingers to touch it. Was it really blood? His fingers met a cold, smooth surface and he sighed. Boy was glad it was not blood. The castle was so beautiful and he looked at all the windows. There was so much detail! On one balcony was a _princess!_ Boy giggled at the waving princess, she looked as if she was about to fall off!

Boy started. Wait. Boy did not want to forget! One wall was eight flops! He had to keep on measuring! Boy stood up and started to hug the walls again. This time, the wall was much shorter, only four flops. When Boy was on his last flop, he stepped on something soft. On the floor was a pile of blankets. Boy's eyes lit up. He did not have to sleep on the stone! Boy had _blankets_! Not only blankets, he discovered, but a nice, thick one for the floor. Before Boy could become more distracted, Boy measured the other wall carelessly. It was roundabout eight flops, boy bet it was the same as the other wall.

Boy ran, Boy could _run_, to his blankets. They were so _soft_ and they did not have holes! These were the most amazing blankets _ever!_ Boy was so happy! Boy grinned and hugged his blankets, snuggling down into them. Boy was so very happy. Boy had _never_ been treated so well! He had a pretty bucket, he had blankets, and he had a ginormous room. Boy was so happy. Happy. Happy. _Happy!_ Had Boy been such a Good Boy that he was given such things? Boy was not sure why this was happening but he was happy. Maybe 'Master' was the word for 'Dad'? Uncle Vernon was Dudley's dad and Uncle Vernon gave Dudley nice things. Boy was not sure. Boy wanted to ask Master what 'Master' meant but if he did… questions were bad. Questions meant pain. Questions meant red face… questions meant leaking red.

Boy did not like to ask questions. No matter how badly Boy wanted to ask them, Questions meant pain. Boy did not like pain so he did not like questions either. Boy did not want pain! Boy did not want ouchies! Boy… Boy needed to calm down. Boy would not ask questions. Boy would not ask the questions springing up in his head. Boy would be a Good Boy. Good Boy could keep interesting pots. Good Boy could keep nice rooms. Good Boy was allowed to keep nice blankets. Boy wanted to stay a Good Boy. Boy was determined to stay Good Boy. The first thing Boy needed to do was wait for Master to tell him what to do. Boy was happy to do that. Boy's blankets were cuddly. Boy's blankets were warm. Boy was happy to wait.


	4. Spinning Straw

So, this story is really developing into character studies of a sort. In this chapter, Rumpelstiltskin contemplates his Prize. I would also like to say how disappointed I am in the show as of late. Only a cameo in the latest episode and nary a mention in the last? I have been high and dry from my Mr. Gold fix for three weeks now and that is why this was not written farther in advance. When I get to see him? Three+ chapters pop out. No? None. Let us hope he shows up next week!

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><p>Rumpelstiltskin walked up the steps from his dungeon at a slow and deliberate pace. Now that the manic energy of the Deal had worn off with the confinement of his Prize, he could think through his present situation. Deals with such a powerful Price would often blind him, the compulsion so strong that he was made unable to see the downfalls. If nothing else, this was his least favorite aspect of his power. Rumpelstiltskin <em>hated <em>being made a slave to Deals. However, that was the Price he paid for the power he had obtained when he stabbed the Dark One. The Deals compelled him to complete them. He was not a man of his word by choice. He was unable to break it as it was a small Deal in and of itself. His victims were not so bound as he by the power of the Deal.

Rumpelstiltskin was so bound by his power he dared not let a falsehood pass his lips lest the lie become the truth and an unpleasantness befall him. The most powerful magic worker in all the realms he may be but, he was also the most restricted. Once he reached the top of the stairs, he turned to go to his sitting room and his spinning wheel. There was nothing that soothed him more than spinning straw to gold, doing such a menial task reminded him of days gone by when his wife and son were still alive. When Deals did not hold power over him.

He sat down at his wheel and hooked on a leader of cotton. Rumpelstiltskin turned the wheel and began to pull and let the wheel twist it before feeding straw to the leader. The repetitive motion of spinning, pulling, and feeding allowed his mind to drift to his new Prize. The Prize, his Harry, was a strange Deal to be sure. Though he made the Deal with the tub of lard that was posing as a human, the request came from the boy. It was Harry whose wish was so strong it allowed him to go to that wretched place. The Deal was strange for Rumpelstiltskin exacted a price from not only the man, but Harry as well.

Rumpelstiltskin rarely had a Deal wherein the Price was a Dealer and the Dealer was a Price. He was unsure of what to make of the strange boy that would feel so strongly about ones who despised him. The realm in which Rumpelstiltskin lived was not idyllic as it might seem, but there were few children treated so poorly as the boy he had just picked up. For a person not to know their _Name_ was unthinkable. Disguise it, use an alias, not use it, all of those were common. Not to even know it except for its indelible mark upon one's soul was too vile a punishment for even the most wicked of persons.

Looking at his Prize was painful though, Harry reminded him of his beloved son. Thinking about the past only pained him so he pushed away the thought. His fingers ached from the straw's texture as it abraded his fingers. If he spun for too long, the coarse straw would begin to run red out of his aching fingers. Some days, that is what he needed, that punishment for his trespasses.

Rumpelstiltskin was ultimately unsure of what to do with Harry. Normally, when he took firstborn children, it was to give to another whose womb was barren for some reason. He never kept those Prices for more than a day or so. This child though, he could never go to a family for he would suit none. Furthermore, the condition of the Deal he had made was that Rumpelstiltskin would be his guardian so long as he was needed, providing food and shelter in exchange for work.

Rumpelstiltskin looked around his sitting room with a weary eye, it could use some cleaning, his spinning had left a layer of detritus that needed sweeping at the very least. The child had to work or Rumpelstiltskin would not be able to feed him such were the constraints of the Deal. It was however, up to Rumpelstiltskin's discretion what work merited food. He thought on this, not sure if sweeping alone would be enough. Rumpelstiltskin's thoughts were interrupted by his hand finding only empty air where there once was straw.

He looked down to find his supply of straw very low and his bobbin full. Rumpelstiltskin smiled, he never had liked what came after the spinning, let the child do it. So, sweeping, skeining, and winding. That was truly a good chore list for the boy. None of these chores would be too strenuous and they were all things he deplored. Rumpelstiltskin smiled, no longer was the thrall there to make it manic, and stood up. He had a child to instruct in doing some of the more menial chores he loathed.


	5. Contemplating Pockets

I should point out I am a slash fan… Rumpelstiltskin may or may not get with Belle as Harry will become a fixture in his life. Furthermore, for all I know, he may end up with a man. As I have stated before, Rumpelstiltskin and Harry's parings will _not_ be canonical. If Belle comes in, it will not be for a long while yet. On another note, it looks like my beloved Rumpelstiltskin will be coming back next week (THANK YOU!) so I hopefully will have a larger update. Also, pockets? They are a surprisingly modern invention.

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><p>The walk down to the dungeon was slow, partially by Rumpelstiltskin's own design and partially because it was far from his sitting room. While he had initially put the child in the dungeon, he was not overly fond of leaving a child in such conditions. Rumpelstiltskin could not risk his reputation though, so the dungeon is where Harry would stay for now. The Price he extracted from Harry was the magic from the wards that surrounded the property, feeble though they were. The Price was not in exchange for anything in particular though and the wording of the ephemeral deal allowed him to pick what he would give in return.<p>

Rumpelstiltskin idly plucked some straw off of his vest then pulled some gold thread from his pocket. Wonderful invention, pockets. He had learned of them from a Deal in another world. Who had thought of sewing pouches into articles of clothing was a true genius. The idea he had been able to extract a great Price for once he returned to his home world. As much as he disliked the travel to other worlds, it had its perks. Pockets being first and foremost. Rumpelstiltskin shook the thoughts out of his head and focused on the straw and gold. Taking the gold thread, he tied an intricate knot around the straw then snapped his fingers over the bundle. A bright flare left behind an icy blue-white star. The flat gem was in the shape of a stylized star similar to the star of those cross worshipers. It was bordered in pale gold which had a loop to hold the fine gold chain.

Rumpelstiltskin smiled, for he had paid for the Price in an amazing way, for him. Truly, Harry would benefit but the downside, for Harry, was that it bound him to this land. Harry could, once he put it on, never leave the lands of Rumpelstiltskin's estate or go in places forbidden to him. On the other hand, the pendant prevented him from being perceived by any persons save Rumpelstiltskin or those Rumpelstiltskin authorized. He was no fool. If any of his… associates saw this child they would want him for themselves. A fraction of the Deal was protection and protect his Prize he would.

Arriving at the cell's door, Rumpelstiltskin looked through the window and saw Harry sleeping. Rumpelstiltskin opened the door with a bang and abrupt yell, he had a reputation to maintain after all "Harry, I have work for you!"

Harry woke with a start and sat up straight, his eyes wide with fear. He saw Rumpelstiltskin but did not seem to be perturbed by his gremlin like visage. While strange, Rumpelstiltskin did not find it pertinent at this point in time. "Well Harry, are you going to stare at me like a mute or reply?"

"Master?" Harry replied hesitantly.

"I will reply to that, yes," Rumpelstiltskin lifted his hand and let the pendant drop down. "you will put this on and never take it off. It tells all that you are not to be disturbed or harmed, that you are a member of this house."

Harry looked at the pendant mesmerized and seemed almost hypnotized as he took it and put it on. As soon as he put it on, the pendant began to let out a gentle glow. It figured that the disgustingly powerful Prize would be able to manipulate a token he had made. No matter, no child was truly free of the fear of the night.

"Follow me, I will instruct you on the rules you must obey as we go to the sitting room. That will be the location where all your chores will be done the present time. First…"


	6. Freak

Ok, the beginning of this chapter is a scene rehash and I am sorry, I hate them just as much as the next reader. The _only_ reason this is being rehashed is that Boy and Rumpelstiltskin have such wildly different perspectives it is actually important to hear Boy's side of the story. That and it makes it easier to transition from the last chapter. Also, I retconned. Sorry. The sun is now a star and chores have been changed to Rules.

Interesting tidbit, for which I thank all of you. As of uploading there are...  
>2 C2s,12 Faves,15 Reviews, 25 Alerts, 890 unique Visitors, and 1,985 Hits. HOLY COW! In my book? I got 890 reviews to the effect of: Good Job! Since I started this story. Thank you so much guys. Also, pretty please tell me how to make this story better!<p>

One last thing: Anything, relating to Mr. Gold/Rumpelstiltskin of course, you are wondering about? Feel free to ask, I can really use some prompts (stupid show giving him no real airtime)...

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><p>The door to the dungeon opened and Boy started awake. Master was here! He yelled at him, that silly name again. Boy just stared at Master, he really should call Boy by his name. Maybe it was because his hair was so wild? Aunt Pet'una always complained about it. Boy tried to flatten it. It did not get any less hairy. Boy's anxious train of thought was interrupted by Master's "Well Harry, are you going to stare at me like a mute or reply?"<p>

"Master?" Boy replied, he was not sure Master would accept that. His name was R… R'tit'kn, well, it was not that exactly. Boy could not remember that long name! It was so hard to say.

"I will reply to that, yes," Boy looked at Master with awe. Aunt Pet'una _hated_ he did not say her name right! He always was getting hurt for saying it wrong… what did this _mean?_ "you will put this on and never take it off. It tells all that you are not to be disturbed or harmed, that you are a member of this house."

Boy did not even think of refusing the glittery thing. It sparkled and shone like the stars at night. It was like the pictures he saw of the star over the baby that came out with the snow. It was so beautiful. Boy took the chain and slipped it over his head, letting one hand drift down to the star. He felt the pointy parts and the deep parts. They intrigued him for the brief moment before it took on a glow. Master had turned around and started to walk towards the door. Boy took one more look down at his Sparkly and noticed some squiggly lines before following.

Boy realized he had not been listening but it seemed he had not missed his orders "… rules you must obey as we go to the sitting room. That will be the location where all your chores will be done the present time. First and foremost you must vacate any room should someone I have not introduced you to enters. When you leave a room occupied by a visitor, leave so that they do not know you were there. Second, the only place visitors are allowed is the sitting room. Should you see them elsewhere, find me immediately."

Boy thought Master was being too wordy but this seemed important. Boy liked Master's voice so he did not mind. Boy was smart enough to remember Rules. Following Rules meant boy did not leak red, "Third, you are not allowed to leave the house itself until I tell you otherwise. Fourth, you are _never_ to touch my glass cabinet. I will point it out when we get to the sitting room. Fifth, you are to come for every meal unless there is a visitor. Should that happen, the meal will appear in your room. You will eat every meal or be strictly punished. Sixth, once your chores are done, you have my leave to wander the house. Do not enter rooms for which the door will not open to your touch and turn back should your pendant turn red. Finally, your pendant will turn green should I need you and lead you to me. Should you need to summon me for an intruder, tap it twice to the wall. That is all."

Boy's head was spinning, so many big words Boy did not know! Boy understood the general Rules though. Boy was happy with that. Those big long words, Boy hoped he could learn them some day. Boy was puzzled though, why was he to eat? Food was for Good Boy, not for Boy. What if he was not Good Boy for a day? Master said he _had_ to eat or get ouchies. Boy was confused. Boy was scared to ask a question. Questions meant ouchies. But, maybe one ouchie now meant he did not have to get many later?

"Master, what if I am not Good Boy?"

Master turned around to look at Boy sharply, he flinched but did not move. Avoiding ouchies was bad. "Whether you are good or bad, you will eat. I will not have a servant of this house look like a wastrel. Furthermore, we need to get you clothing, your rags do _not_ suit," with that Master turned on his heel and resumed his fast pace.

Boy stood in place, he was stunned. He was not given an ouchie for asking a question. Boy was told he could have _food_. Boy was not sure what to _do_. He had been told that he would always be given _food_. Boy would get _food._ _Boy_ would get food. _Boy would get food_. Boy's eyes watered. Boy was not sure why, but they did and it stung. His eyes felt warm and tingly and wet. Boy rubbed his eyes and ran to catch up with Master.

Boy wondered though, if he was always to have food, how much worse would the ouchies be? Boy was getting scared. He had been given a Sparkly, a giant room, and _food._ Boy was scared. Boy was more than scared. Boy gripped his Sparkly tight, not minding the ouch. The Sparkly glowed for him, it felt warm, it had squiggles floating inside. Boy sought comfort from it. The Sparkly made him scared but the warmth and glow made him not so scared.

They were going up some stairs when Boy realized he had done _freak_ stuff. Making the Sparkly glow could not be normal but Master had not commented. Boy was confused. Boy was scared. Boy did not know what to _do._ Boy was quivering as they reached a set of doors that opened to Master's touch.

Master turned around to let him in but stopped when he looked at Boy. "Harry," he said sharply "You have not yet been given reason to fear me. I assure you, when it is needed I shall give you ample reason to do so. Speak!"

Boy looked up at him eyes wide with fear, "M-m-master…"

"Do not stutter, speak with clarity!"

Boy lifted his Sparkly up to show it to Master, "I did a _freak _thing…" Boy was far too scared to say more.

Master looked down at the Sparkly and a grin surfaced when Master bent over to examine it. "Harry. What you have done is magic and it deserves reward."

Boy looked at Master, what was he _saying?_ Freak things only got ouchies! Boy did not know what was going on but something was wrong with Master. Master still gripped the pendant in his hand as he swiftly walked over to a glass cabinet. Boy was still attached to the pendant and was dragged by his neck to the cabinet behind Master. Boy was slightly less scared, being punished was safe, it was normal, it was familiar. Master turned around, looked down at his hand and dropped the Sparkly.

"Harry, this the cabinet you must never touch. It is… special," Master grabbed a glass vase from the cabinet and brought it down to Boy's level.

His eyes took on a gleam and he began giggling. "So, Harry," Master said in a strangely high pitched voice, "let us make a Deal."


	7. Interlude

Well, I have been very busy. I am currently working on writing a manuscript for my senior thesis as well as making a crud ton of art for a gallery show. Therefore I am too damn busy to do this regularly but when I do have an update, on Tuesday it will be. After last week's episode, I had some thoughts and I felt the need to write a drabble. When more of PotD is written, I will retcon this in. Also, I might throw in some references to shows I like. Sorry.

* * *

><p>Though he was this way now, Rumpelstiltskin was not always so powerful. Before… in that Before, right after the Second Great Ogre War when he still had his reason to be restrained. When he had a reason to be good. When he had reason not to lash out. When he still could hold the Curse at bay. That ephemeral Before.<p>

Before Baelfire left. Before he became a coward. Before he submitted fully to the Curse and became so bound. Before he was subject wholly to the Curse's whims. Before. Before. Bael, his only son. His only light. His only reason to have subjected himself to such a malady.

Every day he brokered Deals he hoped for a Price that would lead him to Baelfire. He yearned for his son with his whole heart. The first time he crossed the barrier between worlds he did not know what was doing on. A young man with white hair begged him to save his friend who lay on the floor. After an exchange of information and a blindfold, a Deal was struck. After that trip, Rumpelstiltskin learned about travel to other worlds. When he tried to do it of his own will however, he was thwarted. No matter how hard he tried, he could not form a bridge.

This After, the horrid After, without his Bael was torture. Rumpelstiltskin traveled to many more worlds after that first one. Many different places for many different reasons. No matter how many places he traveled he could not find his precious Bael. His only Baelfire was beyond his reach. The stronger he became, the more magic a world had to contain to support his existence. As he grew stronger, he became less and less able to travel to where Bael was.

Each time he reached a new world for a new Deal, he would see how much magic was around him only to despair. His precious Bael was not in any place he traveled. After every trip—save when he had to keep up appearances—he ranted and raved. Angry at his Curse, angry at the world, angry at himself, angry at his _cowardice._

He was a failure as a father and the more power he obtained to be reunited with Bael, the farther apart that reunion seemed to be.

It did not matter. No matter what it took, no matter what he had to do. Who he had to manipulate, who he had to kill, who he had to forswear. It did not matter. For his son, he would destroy the world. For his son… for his son, nothing was too much. His son was his only light in the world. For his son, now was the After, it could never again be Before.


	8. Petition Will be replaced tomorrow

Greetings to the fine folk that moderate our site.

Myself, along with many, have been writing and posting on your fine site for years now, some of the better examples of up and coming writers out there are now suddenly finding some of the stories we've come to love at risk of being removed without the chance to even rectify our errors.

For some, that means the permanent loss of a story. While I don't have anything that I believe violates your terms of use, there are those out there that are never able to recover a story in its original form, this is something I find to be almost worthy of a legal action, as while we cannot claim ownership of a character, the stories are OURS and simply destroying them is something that is inexcusable.

It's quite easy to simply add an MA rating, additional filters or even a simple requirement for a free membership to read the stories presented here, and would cut down on hateful anonymous reviews and posts at the same time, so I have to question as to why such a thing, in all this time, simply wasn't added.

If you're worried about falsification of a registration then have an appropriate disclaimer and then there can be no dispute, you took your steps and the PARENTS didn't monitor their children, if that is even your concern. If it is more of a personal view or desire then please at least let people know and give them a chance to remove a story that you and yours find offensive, most people on the site are actually rather cordial when it comes to such requests.

While I cannot say for sure if this letter will even reach those that may be willing to listen, of if it's more akin to a wide spectrum purge in preparation for something bigger, please understand that you are going to be looseing a LARGE number of your writers, and thus your income from a lack of readers if there is not some level of action taken to help with this situation.

For those that may agree with this, please feel free to sign on and send this to the support server, maybe we can get some movement on this.

Psudocode_Samurai

Rocketman1728

dracohalo117

VFSNAKE

Agato the Venom Host

Jay Frost

SamCrow

Blood Brandy

Dusk666

Hisea Ori

The Dark Graven

BlackRevenant

Lord Orion Salazar Black

Sakusha Saelbu

Horocrux

socras01

Kumo no Makoto

Biskoff

Korraganitar the NightShadow

NightInk

Lazruth

ragnrock kyuubi

SpiritWriterXXX

Ace6151

FleeingReality

Harufu

Exiled crow

Slifer1988

Dee Laynter

Angeldoctor

Final Black Getsuga

ZamielRaizunto

Fenris187

blood enraged

arashiXnoXkami

Masane Amaha's King

Blueexorist

Nero Angelo Sparda

Sharkteeth

DAPC

Kyuubi16

bunji the wolf

EternalKnight219

Shi Kami The Murderous Prodigy

DeathNoteMaker

Nostalgic Remedy

Paco the Taco Maker

Ireadtomuch

Marauder Heir

Aharah_Musici

If you could do what some other authors have done and post this petition as a temporary new chapter on some of your stories to help spreed the word? It would help a lot it's how I found out about this.


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